


Memory or a dream?

by MyBeautifulHusband



Series: Memory, dream and reality [1]
Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Alternate Timelines, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-13
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2019-03-31 00:30:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13963407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyBeautifulHusband/pseuds/MyBeautifulHusband
Summary: Little missing piece of a puzzle from Aaron's youth. Couldn't get it out of my mind without writing it, hope you enjoy!





	Memory or a dream?

Aaron was livid as he stormed through the village. It all had happened yesterday, but he was still angry. That day was supposed to be one of the best, him getting rid of his virginity, but she had used him so bad. He admitted it, the sex part was nice, nothing earth shattering but nice. Maybe, he could do that again, if the opportunity rose. 

As if Andy and Daz barging in when Victoria and he were naked together wouldn’t have been embarrassing enough, to learn that Vic had only been with him to make Daz jealous, while he was still naked, was humiliating. Why would Vic be doing something like that on the eve of her father’s funeral was beyond him.

Aaron had tried venting by kicking some bins in the village and mouthing off to Edna, but it didn’t help, he knew he wanted alcohol for this. It wasn’t easy and took some time, but he had managed to nick a six-pack from Leila’s and now he was heading to his happy place, his alone place: the cricket pavilion.

As he came closer to the building, he noticed that someone had taken his place at the steps that led to the porch. The man was a stranger. Little older than him, dressed in long grey wool coat and leather gloves, he seemed to be shivering in the cold. Maybe the bottle of whisky he was nursing kept him warm. What was most important to Aaron, he didn’t look like he wanted company, that was fine by him.

Aaron slumped down to the steps and opened his can in silence. The stranger looked at him, but didn’t say a word, just took his bottle to his lips and drank. They had a silent un-derstanding of what they needed. They needed to drown their sorrows.

Evening proceeded in silence, sometimes Aaron offered his can to the stranger and the stranger offered a swig from his bottle. Aaron started to feel calmer, warm and fuzzy feel-ing starting to make room in his head and chest. 

It was getting dark, when the stranger suddenly stood up, picked up a red rose from the steps behind him, Aaron hadn’t even noticed it before. It seemed like the stranger was leaving, Aaron didn’t quite know what to do, until the strangers rose gently slid across Aaron’s cheek. 

Now Aaron really didn’t know what to do, he jumped to his feet, but he wasn’t the one who was going to speak first. He just stood there. The stranger came closer, lifted his hand to Aaron’s neck and came even closer, leaned down and pressed his lips to Aaron’s. It was light, warm and quick, it was over before Aaron could blink. When he opened his eyes, the stranger was almost gone. Just the blond head looming far in the dark.

Next few weeks, Aaron was in a daze. Paddy started to worry something was really wrong, when he stopped skiving and wasn’t picking a fight with Carl, Paddy often found him looking through the window, fingers brushing his lips. Aaron couldn’t help Paddy with his worries, he couldn’t even start to think of telling Paddy what he was thinking of.

After a while he pushed that memory to the side and started hanging with Adam. After a drunken night he tried to kiss Adam and discovered that other boys didn’t react to boys trying to kiss them the way he had reacted when he was kissed. He started fearing he wasn’t like all the other boys.

Then came Jackson and the suicide attempt and Jackson’s crash, life happened and that particular memory faded and started to feel more like a dream than something that had really happened.

That was, until he came back from France. Lived at the pub, worked at the garage, often walked through the pub to the back. On this day he had already walked behind the bar when he heard a new voice talking to his mum, turned and saw the stranger from his dream sitting right there and talking with Chas. 

Wasn't it a dream? A Memory?


End file.
